Read Online The Gold Miner's Wife: A Young Woman's Story of Romance, Passion and Murder by Amethyst Creek - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Amethyst Creek
Ads: Link
cannot imagine what laid the foundation of your sentiments. Perhaps Edward made some oblique remark that you misinterpreted. But regardless, I can assure you he is a gentleman and he is also my guest. I thank you for the dance, Mr. Simmons,” she said politely as the music ended, “and bid you a good evening.”
Susannah made her way to the ladies retiring room for a few moments alone. She needed to think about what just happened. On the one hand she found herself defending Edward Mansfield like an avenging angel. At the same time, hadn’t Edward forgotten his manners with his highly inappropriate question? Was Jack seeing something in him that she was missing? Was Edward a bounder? But no, Edward had always been a friend. Maybe Jack was the bounder. She was confused. It was all very unsettling.
It was very late. The day’s events were now a pleasant memory. Thomas and Susannah helped each other undress. It was their private time, a time for loving and soft sighs, a time when they seemed to be the only two people in the world. He picked her up, carried her to the bed and gently laid Susannah on the satin sheets, among the soft pillows. He came over her, suckled her breasts, she felt his thick penis, hard against her belly. She waited, her body throbbing and hungry for that crying pleasure again. He gave it to her. He knew how. His kisses and tongue and hands, promising ecstasy. She breathed in the indescribable scent of his skin. They lay nestled together, she felt safe in his arms, and she was beyond happy.
In another part of the mansion, Edward Mansfield was drifting off to sleep. It had been a gratifying day’s work, he thought, full of possibilities. He had a plan, and the ever-reliable Mr. Brophy to set it in motion. He was rich in hopes. Susannah would be as helpless as a kitten. In illusions and in deception he knew he was unequalled.
Before the sun was up the next morning, Mrs. Sheppard was bustling about the kitchen preparing a hardy breakfast. Catori, following her usual routine, removed several clay ollas from the pantry, one containing cinnamon and another of honey. She combined one tablespoon of honey with a half teaspoon of cinnamon and set it aside in a small dish, to be served with Mr. Sprague’s breakfast. He believed a mixture of cinnamon and honey to be a very effective preventive treatment for all kinds of ailments including fatigue, indigestion and winter colds and that it was unsurpassed at revitalizing the arteries and veins. Catori didn’t believe a word of it. She viewed life as a gift from Mother Earth and good health as a blessing from the Spirit World. But she had come to know that Mr. Sprague had very definite ideas about the health benefits of many foods including vinegar, molasses, chicken soup and hot peppers. At this rate, she thought, he might easily live to be 100.
The lady who brought fresh milk each morning was at the door with their order. Mrs. Sheppard kindly relieved her of her burden and returned to her tasks. Presently the ladies heard the squeaking of the back stair steps, someone was descending and soon Mr. Mansfield’s bodyguard, Mr. Brophy, appeared in the kitchen doorway. He was carrying a small leather bag in one hand and his bowler hat in the other and he wore heavy boots. His clothes were plain and seemed slightly worn. Wherever he was going, he certainly had not needed to get dressed up. Mr. Brophy was of average height, but muscular, burly and solidly built. He had light brown hair and sported a mustache and sideburns. And he was not much for conversation. It was an unexpected surprise to see him up and about so early.
“Good morning Mr. Brophy,” said Mrs. Sheppard brightly.
“Good morning ladies,” he
Susannah made her way to the ladies retiring room for a few moments alone. She needed to think about what just happened. On the one hand she found herself defending Edward Mansfield like an avenging angel. At the same time, hadn’t Edward forgotten his manners with his highly inappropriate question? Was Jack seeing something in him that she was missing? Was Edward a bounder? But no, Edward had always been a friend. Maybe Jack was the bounder. She was confused. It was all very unsettling.
It was very late. The day’s events were now a pleasant memory. Thomas and Susannah helped each other undress. It was their private time, a time for loving and soft sighs, a time when they seemed to be the only two people in the world. He picked her up, carried her to the bed and gently laid Susannah on the satin sheets, among the soft pillows. He came over her, suckled her breasts, she felt his thick penis, hard against her belly. She waited, her body throbbing and hungry for that crying pleasure again. He gave it to her. He knew how. His kisses and tongue and hands, promising ecstasy. She breathed in the indescribable scent of his skin. They lay nestled together, she felt safe in his arms, and she was beyond happy.
In another part of the mansion, Edward Mansfield was drifting off to sleep. It had been a gratifying day’s work, he thought, full of possibilities. He had a plan, and the ever-reliable Mr. Brophy to set it in motion. He was rich in hopes. Susannah would be as helpless as a kitten. In illusions and in deception he knew he was unequalled.
Before the sun was up the next morning, Mrs. Sheppard was bustling about the kitchen preparing a hardy breakfast. Catori, following her usual routine, removed several clay ollas from the pantry, one containing cinnamon and another of honey. She combined one tablespoon of honey with a half teaspoon of cinnamon and set it aside in a small dish, to be served with Mr. Sprague’s breakfast. He believed a mixture of cinnamon and honey to be a very effective preventive treatment for all kinds of ailments including fatigue, indigestion and winter colds and that it was unsurpassed at revitalizing the arteries and veins. Catori didn’t believe a word of it. She viewed life as a gift from Mother Earth and good health as a blessing from the Spirit World. But she had come to know that Mr. Sprague had very definite ideas about the health benefits of many foods including vinegar, molasses, chicken soup and hot peppers. At this rate, she thought, he might easily live to be 100.
The lady who brought fresh milk each morning was at the door with their order. Mrs. Sheppard kindly relieved her of her burden and returned to her tasks. Presently the ladies heard the squeaking of the back stair steps, someone was descending and soon Mr. Mansfield’s bodyguard, Mr. Brophy, appeared in the kitchen doorway. He was carrying a small leather bag in one hand and his bowler hat in the other and he wore heavy boots. His clothes were plain and seemed slightly worn. Wherever he was going, he certainly had not needed to get dressed up. Mr. Brophy was of average height, but muscular, burly and solidly built. He had light brown hair and sported a mustache and sideburns. And he was not much for conversation. It was an unexpected surprise to see him up and about so early.
“Good morning Mr. Brophy,” said Mrs. Sheppard brightly.
“Good morning ladies,” he
Similar Books
